Nightly Wishes
by Uchiha Yumi
Summary: A doctor, a patient, a kiss – and a whole night to think about two lives unexpectedly meeting each other. [AU, Renji x Byakuya, lightly ShonenAi]
1. Clockwise

**Author:** Uchiha Yumi

**Title:** Nightly Wishes

**Genre:** Angst, AU

**Summary: **A doctor, a patient, a kiss – and a whole night to think about two lives unexpectedly meeting each other. AU, Renji x Byakuya, lightly Shonen-Ai

**Rating:** T/PG13

**Parings: **Renji x Byakuya

**Main Characters: **Kuchiki Byakuya, Abarai Renji, slight appearance of Kuchiki Rukia

**Special thanks:** A special thank to Lilya-chan and FunnyNeko, for reading and correcting all of my nasty stuff.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. I tried to sneak into Kubo Tite's room and bribe both into having some "live action" in front of me, but evidently hiring a Kuchiki is more than I can afford in terms of money…

**Notes: **English is not my native tongue. Please tell me about my mistakes!

Alright, that's it – my first AU-fiction!

Well…I guessed you noticed from the summary it's not a High-school fic – more like a "Hospital-fic". Blame it on my obsession for hurt/comfort situations.

I hope you're gonna like it as much as I did – the idea came to me in June/July but the writing was postponed to August because of school.

Oh, before you joygasm, this fiction is gonna have just TWO chapters – and sorry, I have no intention to go further than that – also because I ran out of ideas with chapter two (which is in progress, actually). There should be no need to say it, but reviews are always appreciated, as well as suggestions and constructive critique.

Yumi-chan

_**NIGHTLY WISHES**_

**Chapter One: Clockwise**

"_Thirty minutes, a blink of an eye  
Thirty minutes to alter our lives  
Thirty minutes to make up my mind  
Thirty minutes to finally decide"_

_t.A.T.u. – 30 Minutes_

_Kuchiki Byakuya's POV _

The room was small and dim-lighted, just a few lazy beams of radiance filtrating from beneath the closed door and timidly glowing in that dark pool of obscurity.

The bed was small and hard behind his back, the shiny metal of the side protections palely catching a little of that light, making them look like abandoned tracks of a railway leading to nowhere in particular – but maybe, just maybe, to the land of dreams and wishes.

The man slowly turned around, brushing his long, raven hair off his forehead with a distracted motion of his pale hand.

His arms were pulsating with a dull ache, a sense of dizziness numbing his body. A tiny tube was springing out of a small, white plaster on the internal fold of his elbow and agilely spiralling up to meet a transparent bottle, caged in an iron gate. There was the quiet sound of something dripping, slowly, then, just a few moments later, a light sensation of burning in his arm as the medicine slipped into his body.

He was alone in the room and the sensation of pain and flaring into his stomach seemed way lighter than the last time he felt it.

The last way he felt it…

When was it already? How long had he slept in that hospital room?

He narrowed his eyes to try and catch a glimpse of the nearby clock in that swallowing gloominess, the needles blurring into his sight before slowly getting into focus again, sternly pointing towards the numbers four and two.

4.10 in the morning, actually. So he had been dozing off for about…6 hours, by now.

It was probably to blame on the painkillers, since it wasn't like him at all to fall asleep that early. Especially not when he felt thrilled, or agitated, or when he had some fixed thought buried in the depths of his head. Yes, definitely not like him.

It was his second day in the hospital, if he recalled correctly. He had arrived the previous night with an ambulance on an emergency call. He couldn't remember exactly what there had been between himself working to find a few needed items on the penal code and the sensation of being stabbed in his abdomen while foolishly rushing down the streets on an annoyingly beeping carriage – apart from himself throwing up something red in the sink and his sister repeatedly yelling his name while he motionlessly fell on the ground.

Why did he fall on the ground already? He didn't know anymore.  
But, honestly, it wasn't of vital importance in that moment.

In any case, it wasn't his first acceptance in that place – in particular, not in that ward. His stomach had frequently felt bad in the last years, forcing his career as a brilliant lawyer to some imposed stops – and consequent hospitalizations.

Gastritis, they had said at first. An ulcer, some time later. Many ulcers was their last response when he received the results of his most recent examinations – the usual scope – a couple of months before.  
It was curious.  
He wasn't even 40 years old yet, and his body already couldn't take it anymore. Nobody would have believed this, nobody would have bet a single penny on his beaming and promising life taking such a radical and depressing path, so far from the common ideas and expectations.

Kuchiki Byakuya had been a content man. He came from a wealthy family, he had a discreetly big house, a famous studio in the middle of the town, a beautiful and caring wife who just got pregnant when he was at the peak of his career and happiness.

It was perfect, just simply, totally perfect – maybe too perfect to last.

Hisana got quickly sick, her colourful cheeks slowly but steadily getting more and more ashen by the day, the light in her eyes choked and stifled until nothing was left but a ghostly shadow of what it had been.

He didn't notice at first. He was no mind-reader and even less a present husband, his thirst to get higher still in his social position drenching his thoughts and monopolizing his existence, making him the perfect prototype of the money-maker.

But then, on a windy night of April, everything changed.

He was talking to her about his project to move to a bigger house as soon as the baby would be born, and she was happily smiling and nodding as if his every word was a distillate of bliss and hope. Then, the moment after, she leaned back on the pillows of their bed – it wasn't unusual, those days around. She was entering in her fifth month of pregnancy, and the doctor had told them it was normal for her to feel tired and strained.

He kept on talking for a while, his eyes running quickly on the pages of a catalogue of houses and villas – but she wouldn't answer anymore.

He rushed to the hospital, his black BWM car pushed so far the engine squeaked continuously.

Miscarriage, they had said. She needed to go under surgery to remove something, he had been asked for her blood group and he didn't even know what to reply.  
Too many long and difficult words pronounced quickly, papers to sign hurriedly and then long, slow hours to spend in that white waiting-room, the big, round-shaped clock on the wall pointing out the minutes and seconds of his grief and sorrow.

And so she was gone, like that. One second she was smiling, the following one she had already taken her way to heaven, dragging their baby along with her.

He will keep her company – they had said. Small consolation, really.

Kuchiki Byakuya had been left alone. So suddenly, so quickly he couldn't even realize it fully.

He boarded himself up and buried in his job, from then on, his sense of guilt eating his conscience alive bit by bit, day my day, year by year. He tried even harder, all of his efforts put into growing more famous, gaining bigger merits, climbing higher and higher and never reaching something able to satisfy him, simply because what he was looking for wasn't there and would never be and he knew that but still couldn't stop and…

And soon he started developing sicknesses. His perfect sight lowered to the point he had to wear glasses to read and write, his head got frequent aches and, last but not least, his stomach started devouring itself.

He was too stressed, he was working too hard, he had to eat more regularly and dedicate some time to relaxing activities – in the last 15 years he had made a whole collection of the useless tips and explanations people had freely and unrequitedly given him, secreting laughing at the human kind's stupidity whenever he could state again they still were far from the truth.

Kuchiki Byakuya wanted to suffer – that was what they didn't get and probably never would.

He had begged for it, every time at night his hand brushed lightly against the empty space on the right side of the bed and felt it cold, every time her laughter resounded in his head and torn his heart apart, ripping his soul to shreds.  
He deserved to be sick. It was his rightful punishment for being so blind and forgetful. Every pang, every minute of pain and flaring was like a soothing ointment for his tormented mind.

And, no matter how hard they would try to convince him, that thing wouldn't change.

He shot again a glance at clock.

4.55, more or less, he couldn't distinguish it clearly from that far.

He had mentally rambled for more than 40 minutes.

Impressive.  
Maybe it was the IV to cause his mind to travel so far and dwell in his painful past.

Or maybe…not.

In the last 5 years he could count something like 16 hospitalizations, 3 quick surgeries and over 10.000 dollars gone in vain treatments. Every single acceptance looked much like the previous one and would surely be alike the following: his arrival folded in two from the pain but still trying to look somewhat dignified, the quick visit of a gastroenterologist – he had met so many of them by now he could write a guide on that topic – the papers to sign, his four, five days of forced cures and exams and then the discharge, with the usual recommendations he wouldn't hear, the usual diet he wouldn't follow and the usual medicines he wouldn't take.

However, much to his surprise, this time something had gone differently than what he had planned.

He had felt really bad – as bad as he hadn't felt in years – and had been carried to the hospital on an ambulance. Then, as a first thing, he hadn't been quietly visited on a soft white bed – another thing he could write a guide onto were the questions made during the acceptance visits – but immediately dragged to be scoped.

Great, he hated that procedure, though he would never admit it. Ok, actually he had become so boarded up he would have denied even his own nature of human being, but whatever.

And then…

Then something even stranger had happened. He had been told the doctor who was about to do the examination wanted to talk to him face to face, after. That nearly was a prime.

From the hazed fog of the pre-exam anaesthesia, he had stolen a glance of a tall and sturdy figure, chatting with Rukia outside the room. He had heard something about them not meeting from the time of high-school, so he had time to guess they were friends or at least acquaintances.

But then, before he could absorb something else from the outside world, the powerful sleepy-mask kicked in, sending him straight to the lands of dreams.

When, a few hours later, the mist had cleared a bit, there was a man sitting in front of his bed, straddling a chair with his elbows rested on its back. There was a folder in his left hand and he was staring right in his direction. His hair was bright red and tied up in a high ponytail and some intricate tattoo starting from his brows and curiously heading down to his neck and lower, under his green hospital-clothes and his white coat.

"Good afternoon…Kuchiki-san" he had said, glancing at Byakuya's name on the papers he was holding.

The older man had just frowned in response, that odd sight making him doubt to be out of the sedatives yet. But then, some previously stored information started to crawl back towards him.

Could that man be…?

No, he didn't look much like a doctor. He had more the appearance of a backstreet rat. Or an assistant, at the most. Definitely not a clinic and not the one who had scoped his delicate stomach for sure.

He had just mentally smirked in that moment. How curious, he was complaining like a high-class snob about his stomach being too sensitive to be checked by such a man when he didn't make the slightest effort to make it heal in years. Hypocrite.

"Doctor Abarai Renji. Nice to make your acquaintance. It looks like I will follow your cures, this time" he added after a short while, clarifying – or intensifying, it depends on how you want to take it – the lawyer's doubts.

That strange man was his doctor? Unbelievable, truly unbelievable.

However something even more unbelievable was just about to happen. Usually, the rare times a doctor would try his way and talk to him, his obstinate and absolute silence would induce even the most well-intentioned man to desist and just leave. But that didn't seem to be the case.

"I've been attending Rukia's same schools since elementary. But I'm one year older" he smiled, but just to meet Kuchiki Byakuya's stoic expression. Not even that caused him to give up "She gave me a quick breakdown on your situation and I've already done my researches on your case, Kuchiki-san" he smiled again, genuinely.

Kuchiki Byakuya probably scowled – probably, because he couldn't be much sure, since he still felt a bit dizzy. So that man had talked to his sister and had done researches on his case.

Ooow, interesting – he somewhat enjoyed to amuse himself with the curious types, before definitely kicking them out of his life. He would just play along for a bit.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence – in which the red-head had scratched his head and cleared his throat a dozen of times (inducing the nobleman to bet on a quick departure) he surprisingly started to speak again.

"It's ok if you don't feel like talking. I stake your throat still feels odd from the numbing spray. It was one Hell of a scoping, we had to use tons of-"  
"I'm fine" he cut him off. It was enough, really enough. He had no right to meddle into his life and it had to be pointed out immediately.  
"Oh…" the doctor had been caught off guard for a brief moment, but then he simply resorted to a warm, cheerful smile "Better like this, then"

He was starting to hate that red-head. He was annoying. Way more annoying than what he had planned, his will to play along a bit crushing against that warm, mischievous smile of his.

Just another word and he would…

"Your stomach seems to be in a really bad condition. No wonder you threw up blood – a couple of your ulcers had deepened and started to leak ou-"

. . . yell.

"It's none of your business. I said I'm fine!" he managed to utter in a still somewhat respectful voice.

This time it looked like his action had some sort of effect.  
The other man closed his mouth immediately, then lightly frowning and giving some looks at the folder, taking out his pen to scribble some vain prescription and then just …

…talk?

"No, you're not fine. No one with a stomach in your conditions could be"

Oh, it looked like the boy wanted to challenge his endurance. Great, he would just serve him what he deserved: a free dose of icy coldness.

"I said it's none of your concern anyway. If I say I'm fine I-"  
"Stop acting like a kid, Byakuya!"

That had been really, truly surprising.

Not only a complete stranger had interrupted him while he was talking, but he had even outrageously dared to call him by just his first time.

Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.

Kuchiki Byakuya's eyes menacingly narrowed as his coldest voice ever prepared to pronounce some words meant to shut him up for a long while. He was a lawyer after all. Using words to cut through people's obstinacy and insolence was daily routine for him.

"Know your place, you-"

But another interruption had nullified his intention.

"This is my place. I'm your doctor" his voice sounded just as icy, a mild glare giving even more emphasis to the words.

For the first time in many years, Kuchiki Byakuya had to shut up. Evidently pleased with the result, Doctor Abarai let out a breath. Then, with absolute calm he had stood up and moved closer to the bed.

The older man startled a bit, the feeling of his personal space being violated so openly and carelessly shaking him from the inside. He hated people coming close to him. It made him feel…harmless?

No, it couldn't be. He was stronger than feeling defenceless because of a doctor sitting on his bed.

He just turned his head to the other side, indignantly. He was stronger than that. Far, far stronger than that, but then why was his heart…

…racing, then?

It should have been the sedatives, yeah. There was no other rational reason.

"Admitted because of a stress-caused ulcer" the doctor started again "That's what's written on every one of your recent papers. Stress, excess of work, incorrect alimentation quoted as probable causes …" He paused "but I have a feeling this is all bullshit. Am I right…Byakuya?"

Here he was again, being called by his first name. But, strangely this time he couldn't feel angry.  
He simply couldn't. There was something in that voice, something in feeling that man's breath so close to him that prevented every possible bad reaction.  
Kuchiki Byakuya just nodded, head still turned to the other side.

"There's something bothering you" the red-head stated, letting out a soft sigh "something you can't come to terms with. Something happened in the past and hunting you, probably"

The other man gasped.

How…how could he know? How could he just open his mouth and dig painfully into his past without no right and no reason? In a sole moment, he felt his heart being squeezed and torn to the point of breaking. In a sole moment, all the ghosts of his life came back to eat up what he managed to preserve of his soul.

He turned around quickly, one of his small hands ready to hit with a slap the violator's face, but he was stopped by another hand, sturdier, grabbing his own, tightly. For a moment he thought it would be painful, but quickly he realized it was…warm?

He looked into the other man's eyes. They were severe and glaring, but deep inside he could read some sort of…raw tenderness. Some gratuitous sense of caring he was never really able to feel.

The same sense of caring whose lack had brought to his wife's death.

He felt a long shiver running down his spine and suddenly it was as if he was falling down his highness, into the empty darkness, without hope, without anything to grasp onto.

He felt scared.

"You won't solve anything like this" Abarai Renji went on, calmly, but with that slightest hint of authority in his voice able to quench every possible objection.

Oh, what a discovery.

Did he ever think he could solve some of his problems in that way? No, not really.

But he never wanted to find a solution, that was. He needed consolation, he needed something to soothe his heart and warm up his soul.

But not a solution. Never.

"Do you think killing yourself in such a foolish way will have any utility?"

Killing himself…

Kuchiki Byakuya's eyes widened for a brief moment.  
He had never seen the matter in that perspective. Was he really trying to kill himself? Had that been the hidden goal behind years of self-punishing and seeking for pain and grief?

Kill himself and follow Hisana's and their baby's fate. Was that what he had been thinking all along?  
It hardly mattered now. Whatever the original purpose was – if there was a purpose, part from soothing his sorrow with physical pain – he was now completely in and couldn't go back. He was on the dance-floor, the music was on and he had to dance.

No matter he had been dancing for years, now. No matter he still had years to spend tapping all over the shiny floor of a perfect appearance.

He gave a quick glace at the man next to him. Just what did he want from his existence?  
It had taken him years to build some semblance of stable balance and now, a red-head popped out of nowhere was spurting out philosophical sentences worth of a cheap gossip magazine and was challenging his work of a life.

"Anyway" the doctor resumed after a short thinking "It's not my duty and my business to judge you"

Oh, so now it wasn't his duty?

He had been destroying piece by piece his castle of illusions and shaky achievements and now "it wasn't his duty and business"?

The rage in that moment was blinding him. His hand raised again, faster than before and hardly slapped against his tanned face, the dull sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.

"NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS?"

It wasn't like Kuchiki Byakuya to get angry that easily – or, at least, to show his emotions that openly. He was a collected person, used to the forced calm of the tribunal's environment.

But that time, he just snapped. It was too much to take altogether.  
Ok, let's rephrase: it was too much to take. Period.

"YOU-"

Yes, he what?

Words were chocked in the lawyer's throat when his lips came in contact with other, warmer ones.

A kiss.

A tongue slipping inside of his mouth, twirling, pulling him closer still.

How long had it been from the last time he had been kissed? Or…was he the one kissing and setting the pace? In that spiralling whirl of surprise and heated wetness he wasn't sure.

Years…

Too many years, too much pain, too many events shaking his life had passes since the last time he felt at least half of those sensations.

He melted in that kiss, he sank into it until he could feel the warmth crawling under his skin and setting his whole body on fire. He hugged the other man close to his chest and kept on kissing, his tongue battling for dominance, his hands eager for some contact, some love and affection he didn't remember how tasted like.

As soon as it started, it ended.

The two men looked at each other's eyes and blushed, immediately turning around.

"I'll…" the doctor started, stuttering "I'll send you a nurse to give you some medicament in a few minutes"

He stood up, quickly, and moved to the door.

Byakuya would have liked to stop him. He would have liked to ask him to stay a little longer, not to leave him alone. Not to let him fall again in that swallowing darkness his existence was.

He just nodded, instead, their eyes shortly meeting again, before the door closed behind his sturdy shoulders.

A beam of light…

And now…

He breathed deeply, a light cramp in his sore stomach inducing him to wince lightly.

5.40 in the morning, the blurry clock seemed to indicate from the far lands of his bed.

The IV was still dripping quietly into his body to give him the "medicament" he was evidently still needing.

Hours had passed from the moment when he started to space out again and still he couldn't erase how it had been, how warm it felt, how suddenly right even being so wrong and unexpected.

He had kissed another person. After years of sufferance and chastity and self-deprecation. And it had been a boy. His doctor, a person who had destroyed every one of his illusions within just a bunch of minutes.

Was it just coincidence? A mistake? Fate?

He painfully brought his hand to his lips and traced them slightly. Were they…warmer than before?

Had his cold and ice-shielded heart really been melted by…

A beam of light…?

Maybe he should really start considering curing himself and healing from that annoying disease of his – was it the ulcers of his loneliness, already?

It looked like it was worth it, in the end. If only to see doctor Abarai again.

Even just once.

Kuchiki Byakuya turned towards the window. A suffuse, soft glowing of red and orange beams was starting to crawl under the closed shutters, timidly announcing the beginning of a new, warm day.

He was smiling.


	2. Counterclockwise

Oh my gawd.

I haven't updated this in two months!

Sumimasen! bows  
Alright, maybe nobody is caring – in the end, this story was disastrous if we consider the feedback. I even thought about deleting it, but…well, someone reviewed. So, I thought that, even if just for one person…

Chapter two and the small epilogue are up. The story is now complete.

Dedicated to: everyone who read it and reviewed it.

Yumi-chan

**Chapter Two: Counter-clockwise **

"_Thirty minutes to whisper your name  
Thirty minutes to shoulder the blame  
Thirty minutes of bliss, thirty lies  
Thirty minutes to finally decide"_

_t.A.T.u. – 30 Minutes_

_Abarai Renji's POV_

The small clock of the infirmary was slowly tickling towards 4 o'clock, its rhythmical noise resounding in the silent and semi-deserted room.

On the brown, woody desk a noticeable mess of papers, half-munched snacks and cups of coffee was indicating another long night on duty for the lonely doctor who had in charge the whole ward.

Said doctor was now sprawled on a stuffed chair, his head tiredly rested against his left palm while his free limb was automatically signing papers on papers to the point of feeling all his muscles tingle.

Abarai Renji had never been diligent about paperwork – he preferred the direct action, the surgery room, the ER. So, it wasn't that odd to find him up at ungodly hours giving in to all those junk-foods he banned for his patients and practically drunk with coffee, filling in his forgotten forms and clinical reports – moreover, he was on duty tonight, he didn't even have to sacrifice some of his precious leisure time.

What was really odd, however, were the thoughts spinning around in his tired and sleepy head.

Gawd, what a long day it had been. Long and numbing even though he didn't even smell the scent of the dear Surgery Room apart from a boring and short appendectomy.  
Open up, take it off, sew it down.

What a stupid thing for a skilled surgeon.

Well, it wasn't like he lacked modesty, but…let's say he had enough pride to feel smug of his condition of self-made man. And his most recent promotion with reassignment to the biggest hospital of the town had been just the latest, biggest proof.  
Everything he had was his and purely his – no one had ever given him something, unless his own sweat and nearly ten years of hard work.

And now? Now he could earn twice the money both his parents managed to gather when he was a kid and he had a real home – not a big one, but surely something better than a cold and stinky caravan.

It was somewhat reassuring to think about that – especially in difficult nights like that one.

When he had first told his parents and brothers – he actually had two older siblings – he was going to try and win a scholarship for the Medicine Course at the University, they had laughed at him.

He, Abarai Renji, reckless, hopeless backstreet rat was about to try and take the big shot of life in the most prestigious college of the area – it was something to make you die out of laughter.

Seriously, how could he make it? He couldn't, he simply couldn't. Why wouldn't he renounce and find some useful job? Or maybe it was just a way to try and skip his duties now that he wasn't a "kiddo" anymore – why wouldn't he accept that position as a plumber?

Because in his life, Abarai Renji didn't want to be a plumber or a bricklayer or anything else.

He wanted to be a doctor. Period. No matter what.

He didn't remember how exactly he did develop that passion, nor when.

He couldn't say his family was fond of medical departments – cures cost and they didn't have much money, so their experience of doctors was limited to the nasty nurses assigned to vaccinations in the hood's filthy sanatorium and the skinny dentist who occasionally extracted their teeth with the gracefulness of a pissed ape.

Good Lord, he had even had braces from that man.

Well, that was until he turned 11 and caught quite a serious bout of pneumonia.

When he was to think about it, the first thing Renji remembered was how his father had cursed his lungs out as soon as he knew his son needed serious medical treatment. He had pointed out – with abundance of Saints called down from Paradise as special guests – that he was breathing polish 24/7 in that dirty factory downtown and he didn't even remember how many times a day he coughed, so there was no way a kid with a little wheeze and fever would waste his sweated money in a freaking hospital.

However, when the "kid with a little wheeze and fever" started to cough up blood and passed out a few times, the famous "way" was promptly found and Renji was accepted in a real hospital, like those they had seen in movies, with white walls and white beds – and without spiders and creepy-crawlies scattered around.

Despite the scary stories of vampire-like doctors ready to skin alive and eat sick children his older brothers had blessed him with, his 43 days in that place weren't so bad – clinics were nice and funny and nurses brought him hot-chocolate instead of calling him reeking-brat and drag him by his ear to get his prevention shots. Oh, and speaking of shots, in such a place, even needles seemed to hurt less.

Maybe it was that time that Renji understood what his path for life was.

Or maybe not. Maybe it was another, griever event to make him decide the white coat was his only rightful vocation.

It was a rainy day of November, he couldn't forget it because his mother's birthday was near and he was in a shopping trying to decide whether she would rather receive a hair-drier or a new coffee-machine. Then, his mobile rang – a message from his older brother, the run to the hospital recklessly riding his motorcycle.

When he was admitted in the room, she was lying there, motionlessly, a cloudy mask providing her oxygen while hundredths of little tubes went in and out of her bruised body.

He had felt so ignorant at the time, so powerless. If only the secrets behind the human body were clear to him, if only he was more prepared, maybe…just maybe he could do something not too see his best-friend tossed on a bed like some abused Guinea-pig.

Rukia…

What a crappy family she lived in – her mother died giving her birth and her father used to get drunk and beat the Hell out of her and her sister, Hisana – though, since when the older daughter had found a good man to marry and left that shit, all his aggression was concentrated on the little one.

And evidently, that time his hands and feet had been too heavy. Just a _little_ heavier and she would be buried in the family grave, next to her mother – and her sister. Even if Hisana was still alive and well at the time.

Oh, the sick irony of life. The end of her sibling's life had been a chance to rebirth to her. In fact, without no apparent reason, Rukia had been practically adopted by the rich man her sister had married and left her father's house to go and live with him.

But, from that moment on, her relationship with Renji had gradually slacked off, reaching the point of merely calling each other just for the ritual Christmas wishes.

Sad, but such was life. A filthy bitch.

You can just imagine, then, how utterly surprised he had been to spot Rukia, about 9 years after their last encounter, strolling around the halls of his ward, a nearly desperate expression painted on her face.

The doctor shook his head and blinked a couple of times, staring at some x-rays as if it was the first time in his life he came in contact with similar things.

Oh gawd…mmmm…he took a glance of the clock while gulping down some more black, formerly hot coffee. It was 4.30 in the fucking morning, no wonder he couldn't concentrate much anymore. His sleepiness was rightfully kicking in after nearly 18 hours of work – and what kind of work.

Well, it was true, no surgery room for him that day, but he had made up for that "lack" with at least seven endoscopies. It was a bit like ordering the strawberry milkshake when they tell you they run out of the chocolate one. A tasteful replacement, but still a replacement.

Or, to put it better still, the absence of nice surgeries to perform had been filled with six endoscopies and a special patient.

After approaching Rukia in the ward and carrying out the dutiful greetings, in fact, Renji had asked her a bit about her presence there, discovering his friend's brother had been recently hospitalized because he had thrown up blood.

'_Brother?'_

Uhm, yes, that was the way she called poor Hisana's husband.

Honestly, he didn't remember much about him, apart from his long, absolutely black hair and his pale face. Oh, and his aloofness of course.

Rukia, however, had told him about his situation, the fact it looked like he was trying to slowly kill himself after Hisana's death, his sadness, his inability (and lack of will, probably) to share his feelings with the outside world. The doctor had been a bit troubled by those news, startled.

He saw that man just a couple of times before, but the sense of uneasiness had been so thick he had felt very glad when he left. Even on Hisana's funeral.

It wasn't like he believed in… "superstitions", or chakra or stuff like that – he was a "man of science", after all – but there was no other way to put it: that man seemed to emanate dark, sad waves. Anyway, the least Renji could do for his old mate, obviously, was assuring her he would personally take care of him and make sure he'd heal, even talk to him if necessary.

She had smiled so broadly and hugged him close, thanking him at least a thousand of times. He felt happy. Really, really happy.

The exam was difficult, but in the end it went pretty smoothly, without any complication or such.

Kuchiki Byakuya – name he had gathered from the papers – was his last patient for that day, so, instead of instructing some nurse to call him when he'd wake up, he decided to simply wait in the room, giving a look at the previous reports of that… "special" patient. And, anyway, he had promised Rukia he would talk to him – or better talk him into reason once again. And he was a man of honour.

The breakout he drew together was all but bright: his stomach was messy, ulcers were often bleeding and he seemed to spend more time in the hospital than at work.

What Renji didn't know, however, was the acid and freaking irritating attitude of that man.

Gawd…two words and he already felt like giving him some sleeping stuff in his veins and get rid of his annoying tone. But he didn't.

Why? He didn't know. But probably now, a few hours later, he was deeply regretting that choice.

Even more after _that _happened. They had shared a kiss!

No matter how hard Renji was trying to deny that, it just slammed back in his face every single time. The simple thought made him shudder and throw a disgusted glance at the papers he was filling in. He had kissed a male patient, holy gawd, he had violated the ethical laws of his job and gave in to those deep, greyish eyes screaming in need of love.

Okay, the "kissing-another-man" part wasn't so worrying. He was in a sort of relationship with one of his colleagues, after all. Hisagi Shuuhei, cardiologist, a few years older than him and a perfect sex-buddy. They never asked more of each other and they both were perfectly fine with things as they were.

So why the Hell did he kiss Kuchiki Byakuya – and, for instance, got kissed back?

He didn't feel as if he had betrayed Shuuhei, that wasn't the point – they were both as free as the wind, they didn't want tight bonds and so on.

But why on Earth did he look for a chaste French-kiss from a random patient when he could have

sex and cuddles and whatever from someone he knew and was acquainted with?

Well, he was a gentle-hearted doctor and he had saved a few lost kitties in the past, finding himself unable to resist the famous "puppy eyes" – but he couldn't say Kuchiki Byakuya had particularly sweet or big eyes. Was it the "Florence Nightingale syndrome" then? He didn't know either.

He just saw the need of love in those deep irises and couldn't hold back.

He usually was a protective person, that's true, but what did that man do to deserve it? Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Rationally thinking about that – _if _rationality could still apply to such a case – an odd feeling of…warmth had already crawled inside of his body as he was lazily going through his patient's papers. Life could be a bitch – oh gawd, it so could, he was well aware of it and pretty familiar with the hardness of living, but …_him_?

He had been used to a world of fluffiness and perfection, of money and happiness-for-sale. He had a young and beautiful wife and, as far as he knew, a comfy house and all the wealth he could need.

And then…?

Then everything had collapsed in a moment, leaving him with nothing but dust in his hands. Love wasn't money. Love wasn't work, wasn't an expensive car or a suite in a rich hotel. That's what Abarai Renji read in those eyes, that's what his heart throbbed and ached for. It must have been terrible.

You can't end up sore if you fall from the ground. But what if you had reached the highest floor?

You're doomed to be crashed.

He glanced once again at his papers and gulped down the last sips of his black coffee, frowning as the harsh taste filled his mouth. Enough paperwork for that night, it was obvious he couldn't concentrate much, since his mind was happily spacing out.

Had he been affected by that kiss in the same way? Or maybe his sorrow-hardened heart didn't feel any difference, any heat coming from that? Those unpleasant thoughts restlessly wriggled in Renji's mind, evilly tingling his already wounded pride.

How…how could he give in? Why? What was so spellbinding in that man to induce him to a…_kiss_?

There was no peace for him. No peace at all. But maybe, just maybe…if he saw him once again…

He slammed the cup of coffee back on the desk, firmly cutting himself off.

See him again? What for? To further torture himself? No, no thanks, he didn't need that.

Maybe he should just give Shuuhei a phone call and see if they could meet for some…private intercourse, so to say. But, matter-of-factly, how many chances there were not to be sent to Hell given that it was – he cast a glance at the clock – 5.30 in the frigging morning? Unluckily, not many – his easy form of bodily consolation would have to wait for a while, sadly.

And in the meanwhile…? He couldn't simply ignore the questions and doubts screaming in his head, he would go insane before dawn.

No, there wasn't other way, he needed to see him, to meet his pale face even for just a brief moment and verify if it really had been just the…awkwardness of the moment or…

Or nothing! He couldn't act like that and be so troubled for such a stupid thing. But, if so, why the Hell did he find himself quickly walking down the corridor heading to Kuchiki Byakuya's room?

It was foolish, just foolish.

'_Slow down, Renji!'_

But he couldn't. He felt inescapably attracted by him. Just a glimpse of his face, just a moment in his presence and everything would get fine again – he kept on repeating to himself.

When he finally reached the door after what looked like an eternity to him, his heart skipped a couple of beats and he nervously licked his lips. His knees quivered.

What the Hell? He felt worse than when he had to pass his final exam at university. He needed more coffee. Possibly hot this time. He distractedly rummaged into his pockets and drew out a few coins, walking up to the coffee-machine placed just a few steps away from the room's door.

He leaned his arm against it and pushed the coins inside, selecting black, sugar-free coffee among the beverages and giving a light kick to the sturdy thing just for good measure.

Gawd, gawd, gawd…

His heart was thumping in his chest and his arms were shaking. When a loud "beep" announced the coffee was ready, he grabbed it and gulped it all down in one go to try and get a hold of himself.

Vainly, though, since his limbs and mind kept on screaming Kuchiki Byakuya's name. He tossed the empty glass into a trashcan and turned again to the door.

250, read the label on the right.

More or less as much as Renji's heartbeats in a minute.

'_Come on…come on…you go in, see him, tell him it's just a routine examination if he's awake and go away…'_

Righto. When he grabbed the doorknob he found his own hand shaking. He held it tighter.  
One slick movement to the left and the heavy wood creaked open.

Silence.  
Renji slowly stepped in, carefully. The patient seemed to be asleep, the dim light outlining his skinny figure laying in the bed. The IV was half-way over. He would slow it down a little to grant the poor man a couple of bonus-hours of painlessness.

Not that he particularly needed such a kindness, though.

He shook his head and walked up to him, trying not to make any sound but the gasp that escaped his lips the moment he could catch a glimpse of such a beautiful face.

He looked so peaceful like that, a bit like a defenceless baby – so not like him.

The doctor smiled softly and his hand darted to Byakuya's arm, the little check-up of the needle just a pitiful excuse to touch that ivory skin once again.  
One last time. Just to smother all the doubts still nagging and torturing his mind.

"Ow…" a little moan resounded in the room.

Abarai Renji blinked, staring at his patient's body.

_'Is…he…awake?'_

The answer the young man was looking came with a light movement of the lawyer's head. Deep, violet orbs were now staring into hazelnut-coloured ones.

"D-doctor…?" he whispered softly. Was it the night to quench his fierce temper in such an effective way? Or did he have to blame it on the powerful medicines he was taking?

Who knew? All the doctor was aware of consisted in his excitement and a little blush crawling on his cheeks.

"Yeah, don't worry. I dropped by just to have a look at your IV"

Suuuure. And the sun had suddenly started rotating around Earth. Renji sighed and started checking the speed of the dripping to make that little play-acting a little more…credible.

Kuchiki Byakuya just gave him a little look and moaned again. Then, with a barely audible voice, the started talking

"About today…"

"Yes, I know" Abarai cut him off firmly, his eyebrows knitted in a deep frown "It was a mistake. It shall never happen again, I can swear it on my pride"

The older man looked a little dumbfounded because of the stern explanation and just nodded a little. Yes, it was definitely the painkiller. Without any doubt.

"Here we go" he spoke again "I slowed it down a little, so ya can relax a few hours more. How's your stomach feeling?" he calmly inquired.

Perfect. Things were flowing…well, flawlessly. Now he would just check his belly with a couple of quick touches, see if he was still cramped and then turn on his heels and go away.

What a pity to leave such a ….piece of man, but…whatever, he was taught he couldn't always get anything he wanted.

The fact that, in his life, always and never tended to coincide was another story, though.

"Numbed" Kuchiki Byakuya replied.

Renji smiled "With the amounts of ulcers you have down there I wouldn't complain about it. Now, I'm gonna examine it a little. Tell me if it hurts"

He didn't even wait for the man's reply and he started pressing on a few spots of his abdomen, swiftly. Good, he was improving. He stepped back and little and leaned over to give his touches a little more intensity.

"Abarai-san….?"

The doctor turned around to answer and…

"Mpppppffff!"

Deja-vu. Flashback. Old feeling.

Thin, rosy lips pressing on his own, hot, wet tongue begging for entrance. His mouth opening.

Heated and damp feeling. Oh gawd…that was…

A kiss!

As soon as the sudden realization hit him, Abarai Renji started squirming, desperately trying to pull away from that burning sensation. It was like he didn't like it – actually quite the contrary – but, it needed an explanation. Unless…was he still on his desk and he had just dozed off a little? Was he imagining that all?

No, he wasn't. He became completely sure of it the moment he felt hard teeth nibbling at his lower lip. Then, just a mere second after, the noble lawyer broke the contact, lightly panting.

"Byakuya…" he murmured, mesmerized. Originally there should have been a hint of disappointed in his tone, but when the moment of voicing it out came, he just found out he couldn't.

Gawd, if it depended on him, he would kiss him over and over again, until his lips would be bruised and sore.

"Yes….?" the Kuchiki heir's voice came calm and collected this time – completely clashing with the crimson blush on his face.

"Just….why…?" he inquired, eyes widened in surprise and disbelief.

His hand raised to his own lips and touched them as if he would really grasp a little bit of that wonderful feeling he had experienced.

If it had been just a coincidence, a cruel trick of destiny, a mockery, it was surely the best mockery he had ever been target of.

The room was silent again, he could nearly hear his heartbeat and the medicine dripping and it was driving him crazy. Oh gawd. He wanted to rush away and shut that door – and his heart – close forever. He needed to.

If that tearing feeling would have stayed for just a little longer, he….

But then…a sentence, just a few words.

"I just wanted you to know that the word "mistake" doesn't exist in my life"

Doctor Abarai felt himself being pulled down again for another kiss.

**_Epilogue: Midnight _**

Dark, cold, windy, rainy.

All the worse adjectives you can choose to define weather could perfectly apply to that stupid night of November.

Stupid of course, since Abarai Renji was still up to work on stupid papers.

Damn. They had floods of nurses, couldn't they take care of that bullshit and allow the doctors more time for real action of the E.R. variety?

The doctor sighed.

It was just midnight. Still six hours to go before he would finally get home.

He slammed into his mouth an abundant spoonful of (cold), spicy spaghetti with tons of different sauces sprawled over them. God bless take-away shops and their unhealthy food delivered at ungodly hours.

"That's not fair, you prohibit me to eat them and you know I love spicy cooking"

A far-too-familiar voice came from behind his shoulders. Renji turned around.  
Kuchiki Byakuya was standing in the doorway in all the glory of a black suit. Impeccable despite that night God seemed to be preparing the Flood act two – so like him.

Gawd, that sexy wicked angel.

"It's for your stomach's wellbeing. Or are you anxious to get ulcers back again?" he replied, still somewhat staring at that appealing body.

"I know…." He walked further in the room, leaning against some old, cranky piece of furniture, looking around the room "But you should think about your own health too, doctor…"

"Not when I have paperwork to do, thankies…" he sighed and turned back to fill in stupid forms "By the way….what are you doing here at midnight? You sick again? You forgot the keys on the counter?"

"None of the above-mentioned, doc" he shifted back a little "But your memory does fail your far too often…"

"My memory fails me?" Renji turned around again with a puzzled expression "What do you mean, Byakuya?"

"Let me help you a little. One year ago. Emergency call. Many bleeding ulcers. Disgusting gastroscopy. A grumpy patient…"

Abarai's face was starting to light up.

"Oh gawd you mean…?"

Kuchiki Byakuya nodded.

"Our first encounter?"

The man nodded again.

"Oh gawd…" he blinked a few times "One year ago today? And you remembered?"

"Of course I do. Did I ever forget something important?"

The red-haired boy slowly shook his head "Geeeez…you're scary. It must be all the spinach I made you eat for your anaemia…"

The usually stern lawyer gave in and chuckled softly, walking up to his lover "No, it's just that I love you, doctor Abarai" he planted a kiss on the surprised man's face.

"I…I love you too…" he replied dumfounded. Then, his lips quickly turned into a soft smirking "By the way it's thanks to that "disgusting gastroscopy" if you healed. And, more importantly, if you met the best man available…."

Kuchiki Byakuya raised a brow "Oh, really? Sorry if that exam is not the highest aspiration in my life. And the second statement is wholly arguable…"

"Hey, take it back, you noble ass!" Renji snorted

It was the black-head's turn to smirk "No way"

Many laughing sounds and surprised yelps could be heard by the nurses and patients passing by the infirmary. But they would just shake their heads and smile knowingly.

In the end, hearing such a couple bickering like that was always heart-warming.

_**o-O-o Owari o-O-o**_


End file.
